Throwing more stones

                                        Burlington Diary November 2006.

Weds.01.11.06. This has not been the best start to the month as little progress has been made. The lower front shock absorber bushes have been fitted. Unfortunately, the ‘superflex bushes’ for the upper front that had been supplied were incorrect so they had to be modified by being cut into two halves then fed into the eye from either side of the shocker. Being over tight they were squeezed into place using the tension of the vice. They have been made to fit, but are far from ideal. Thankfully, Young Danny telephoned earlier to apologise for not returning my calls. He is back on track after some lucrative ‘modelling’ work in London: I didn’t pry. He will order and purchase the primer tomorrow to begin work on the wings by Friday.

“You know, we have made a lot of mistakes with this re-build going all over the country for crap parts, meeting thieves, liars, conmen and anoraks. We have wasted a load of time because we have just not been organised. Now, I blame you for that! You should have been on’t tinternet from the very start or wading through all the ‘classic car’ mags that I have offered, trudging over wet muddy fields at auto jumbles, getting into the ribs of suppliers: but you never listen! Not to worry, we are nearly there now!” Here we go again. 

I have begun to realise that I need to stop smoking. I have devised a psychological programme of self-induced brain washing. Using a series of flash cards that contain ‘in your face’ messages such as ‘it is possible to drink without smoking’ (I claim to smoke only when I partake of an alcoholic beverage) or ‘smoking makes you cough and afterwards you feel like shite’ or even more simply stated, ‘You can stop, you weak willed bastard’ or ‘smoking will kill you in a long drawn out fuckin’ horrible way, or ‘all your fuckin’ teeth will fall out, your skin will turn a wrinkly shade of yellow and you will smell like an old wet dog!’ I place these messages by my side during the evening and every time I feel the urge to light up I glance down to moronically repeat to myself one or two of the commands. I wonder why the KGB had never thought of these self inflicted, mind bending techniques profitably employed to convince the populace that they all in fact oil rich billionaires instead of penniless, worthless drug raddled peasants. The applications are endless. If the system works it is pure genius and I shall take out a patent before anyone else thinks of it. After two days I remain smoke free.